Musings
by iamthemap
Summary: Actions speak louder than words, but then again, not everything can be heard when one dances on the ice. One-shots based on word prompts. [Viktuuri]
1. Colors, Claws & Anguish

**_N/A:_** _These are literally just one-shots based on random words I got from a random word generator because I had no idea what to write. Also, I'm sorry if it's not that good, I know I'm pretty rusty because it's been forever since I've written anything that isn't related to school._

 _I've decided to tackle on three words per chapter, just to entertain my muse and calm me down from hangover Yuri! On Ice gave me. Honestly one of the cutest anime I have watched about sports. And I just realized once I reviewed it one more time, all of these are in Viktor's perspective._

 _Anyways, enjoy!_

 _Pairing: Viktuuri (Viktor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki)_

 _Rated: M because I'm pretty green-minded_

* * *

 **Words:** Colors, Claws _(NSFW)_ & Anguish

* * *

 **Colors**

 _Home is where the heart is_.

Viktor mused on those words as he stared at the sunset painting the sky the most peaceful of red, orange and yellow, the warm colors reflected on the still waters below. It was like he was standing in them if it were not for the bridge he was in, and he would be a stark contrast, like a silhouette, with his gray hair and blue eyes. In a little while, a hint of purple and blue joined the gradient, and Viktor found himself amused at the thought of the country called to be the land where the sun rose, had the most beautiful of sunsets Viktor had seen in his life.

Hasetsu was a beautiful, peaceful place. It was the town that he never thought would bring so much change in every aspect of his life. He finally discovered what true relaxation was in a hot spring, found one of the most delicious dishes he had ever tasted (and got to eat them almost every day), learned how to be a coach, and most importantly, fell more in love with the most precious person in his life.

Hasetsu would always be in his heart, no matter how old he was, no matter what place he was in. But it was not home. The town may _be in_ his heart, but his heart was not going to be left there.

The sight of the sun half buried in the water signaled Viktor that it was time to walk back to the inn for dinner. He took in the scene of the sunset one more time, his left hand moving towards the other to feel the cold, smooth gold around his ring finger. He stared at it, marveling at how the light hit and made it shine so beautifully. And there he realized, perhaps Japan was called the land of the rising sun was because of how mesmerizing the golden color of the sunrise was. While it did matter how colorful the day ended, to wake up with the sky painted marvelous gold was breathtaking.

He chuckled at his little musings before starting his journey to the inn. On his way, he would pass by stores, diners and houses lit with different colored lights. Red was always present with food, while stores were brilliantly colorful, and homes were glowing with a relaxing white in their windows. Those bright colors were a lovely contrast to the dark, earthy tones of nature. The tree trunks were warm brown, and happily reminded him of Makkachin, while the green in the leaves started to darken as the night flowed in.

When he finally arrived and saw Yuuri smiling at him by the door, he decided which set of colors he liked the best.

The daylight filled everything with color, from gold in the sunrise, to the different palletes throughout the course of the day, and to the beautiful gradient of the sunset.

Yet nothing could ever compare to the colors of the night.

The black of his hair reminded Viktor of the night sky, his pale white skin a large contrast like the moon and the sparkle in his eyes was reminiscent to the stars. His irises as brown as the ground at night, his blue shirt like the waters after the sun set.

"Viktor."

Yet, despite having the different shades of the evening, Yuuri was actually far from the cool and peaceful tones. His very presence was like the gold on both of their fingers and the morning sky, his voice as lively as the colors of the day. And his touch, Viktor noted with finality in his mind as their hands connected, was warm as the red and orange in the sunset sky, yet cool and relaxing like the violets and blues forming as the evening comes.

Hasetsu may have had all these colors in their glory, yet Viktor may never call it home.

For his heart was with the man who could paint his life in the different shades and hues of the day.

* * *

 **Claws**

Viktor always thought of himself as a dog person, both in pet choices and at heart. He was insistent for attention, filled with vigorous energy and could never stay still. Sometimes, people would actually tell him there were no differences between him and Makkachin, the latter even thought to be more behaved. And he loved dogs, preferred them over other animals. They were sweet, loving, incredibly loyal and enthusiastic. There was not a day that could be the same as other days whenever Makkachin was with him, and the spontaneity of having a dog fed his own needs for surprise, and even helped him in achieving the audience's need for those surprises when he was in the rink.

He never really thought of having a cat. Cats were cute, yet they were the exact opposite of dogs. They only come for attention when they crave for it, and most of the day they would be asleep. Some would say cats suit Viktor's tastes, especially with the way he dances on the ice, smooth, steady, _stealthy_ , and would always leap in to action and surprise everyone. But that was it, the mysterious persona he had was only in the rink. Outside, he was a dog who finally broke on a leash, capturing the attention of the people by his energy and charisma.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was definitely a cat person, despite preferring dogs like Viktor did. He was quiet, reserved, and did not do much whenever he was not on the rink. His voice was timid and low, smooth enough to know that he was not one for that much attention. He did things on his own, and actually liked staying in the same place as long as he liked, just using his phone and looking at the photos of his friends.

And just like a cat, his actions depended on how he felt. The mood swings were one of the challenges of being Yuuri's coach, so Viktor always looked out for it; it would change in the most surprising of times.

And today was no different.

Earlier, Yuuri was incredibly caught up in practicing and was conscious of every mistake he did. At every fall he had, he would look embarrassed, yet still sturdily determined. Viktor knew better than to break the mood; once it was ruined, Yuuri would be unable to practice properly until he got his head together.

But given the spontaneity of his character, Viktor did not expect that at the moment he took off his shirt to change in the locker room after the day's practice, Yuuri's mood had shifted a full one-eighty degree. The younger man was behind him, yet he could feel the stare burning on his back, from his shoulder blades to the muscles of his torso. He turned to look at Yuuri, but the other immediately faced away, opting to fix the things in his bag. But Viktor was sure, oh yes he was, because the blush was starting to form on those lovely pale cheeks, and the other's voice sounded lower than usual when he said he was going to get a shower before heading to the shower room.

And Viktor, being a loyal, ever enthusiastic dog person, followed him without hesitation.

Oh, Yuuri was definitely a cat. A sly one when he wanted to be. The moment the door closed behind them and they were finally in privacy, Yuuri went straight for him, immediately slipping his hands under Viktor's shirt, taking it off, body pressed up against the other, mouth leaving a searing, hot kiss on his lips before moving to nip and suck the older man's neck. He marked him with bruises, the same way a cat would rub against one's leg to mark its territory. Viktor was his, and his only, and he engraved that in the different purple and red he managed to decorate the skin with before the Russian pushed him off to get rid of the annoying clothes that were still on their bodies, pulled him to the last cubicle and backed the younger man up the wall inside with a hard kiss.

The shower was turned on, just so no one would clearly hear their voices in case someone came in. Yuuri's legs were lifted up to Viktor's hips and Viktor tried _so_ _hard_ not to increase the intensity of the bite he delivered to Yuuri's neck when the younger _purred_ in pleasure at his teeth. He felt Yuuri's fingers digging into the skin of his back, the pressure of the nails supposedly alarming Viktor, but he could not care less at that point.

As they went on, their bodies moved from pressing to humping to grinding, and purrs and growls turned into groans and moans only barely muted by the shower. Yuuri's legs were hooked securely around Viktor's waist and his nails embedded on the taller man's shoulder blades. The feeling of those claws threatening to _break_ Viktor as they moved against his skin only made the Russian's spine tingle in excitement, and he moaned loudly as their arousals continued to rub against each other.

The heat that engulfed them increased, their minds clouded almost entirely by pleasure. And then Yuuri came, fingers pressed so hard that the skin finally broke as the nails clawed down, leaving bleeding red lines. The voice of Viktor's beloved as he moaned and the _lovely_ pain that erupted in his back was just too much that Viktor followed a second after, back arching as he joined Yuuri's voice with a moan of his own.

They were still for a moment, waiting for the high of their climax to wear off. And when it did, Viktor carefully lowered both of them to the floor with Yuuri sitting on his lap and his wounded back away from the flow of the water. He was only vaguely aware that the younger was nuzzling into his neck as they both panted, Yuuri and the front of Viktor's body soaked with warmth.

"…I could fall asleep right here." Yuuri muttered after their hearts finally calmed down, relaxing even more with the water falling steadily on his back.

Viktor chuckled, his hand petting the wet black strands, "It's not really comfortable here, besides the water's going to be cold." He kissed Yuuri after he saw him looking at his bloodstained nails in shock, trying his best to ignore the stinging pain in his back, "My little kitten."

* * *

 **Anguish**

 _"_ _Let's end this."_

The words rang as Viktor sat up on the bed, feet swinging and planting on the floor and his elbows resting on his knees. On his face was a blank expression, devoid of any emotion, the exact opposite of what he was feeling inside.

He could not sleep. How could he, when Yuuri broke his heart into tiny little pieces, tinier than the broken glass parts of Yuuri's heart when it shattered back in the parking lot. How could he sleep when Yuuri watched him cry with a stony look and a toneless voice. Even if they decided that they would make up their minds after the competition, that there was still a chance that everything could be better, he still could not sleep. His chest pounded in anxiety, eyes red and tired from crying, body too lethargic to move except to lift one hand to feel the ring on his finger.

The cold metal was searing on his skin. Viktor stared at nothing, trying to convince himself that the promise they made back in the airport after the Rostelecom Cup was real, that Yuuri wanted to be with him until he retired, that he was _not_ going to retire, that Yuuri knew how happy Viktor was back then.

His chest tightened, his breath hitching up and eyes burning, threatening show his anguish again. Viktor could not remember the last time he felt like this, when he felt like world stopped turning just to mock him and his emotions. Mocked, yes, he was mocked. He clenched his teeth as he felt anger grow inside of him, filling up the emptiness.

How dare Yuuri mock his feelings like that. How dare he make a fool out of Viktor, giving him hope then planned to toss him out once everything ended. Was it because Yuuri was guilty of pulling Viktor out of the rink? Was it because of the rest of the world pressuring him with the fact that it was him who "forced" Viktor to be his coach?

But Yuuri already knew how Viktor felt about him, right? The rings signified that. The ring that Viktor slipped on Yuuri's finger sealed his feelings along with his hopes. It sealed his hopes on their promise back in the airport. So how could Yuuri do that? Did he expect that he could go on skating like he used to after what he just did? Did he expect Viktor to just move on after everything they have been through because he thought Viktor was better off without him? Did he even think, for one second, if Viktor would just accept the thought of Yuuri retiring after months of training with him, after seeing him bloom into one of the most beautiful and skilled skaters, after letting him know how much, _how much_ Yuuri had changed him, his life, his _future_ , and thought Viktor could just go back to competing? Was he that self-centered to not even consider Viktor's feelings in the matter? How selfish could he get? How could he-

"Fuck." He exhaled as he forced himself to stop thinking when he realized tears were already streaming down his face. He swallowed the lump his throat and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

Temptation then started to crawl up at the pain that felt like it was too much to handle. It was like venom climbing up the red of his anger. His mouth started to water and the need of having alcohol numb his tongue and burn his throat washed through him. He wanted to cloud his system from the emotions, he wanted to convince himself that Yuuri did not mean the words he spoke earlier, convince himself that Yuuri still wanted him to be his coach after the finals, that he wanted what they had now to remain for as long as they could manage.

So he got up, but before he could stop himself, he turned to look at Yuuri, who was bundled up in sheets, his form showing steady movement and telling Viktor he was fast asleep. He almost questioned how Yuuri was able to sleep after their conversation earlier, then remembering the next day was the last event, the day that would determine if Yuuri would be able to catch up from his disappointing score in the short program. If Yuuri was good enough for the gold that both of them were training for.

The gold that Viktor had won for five years in a row, and Yuuri was still dreaming to get. The gold that would convince Yuuri that he was good enough to have Viktor as his coach, and prove to the world that he did not waste Viktor's time nor threw away his legacy.

Yuuri did know Viktor's feelings for him, but he also knew how heavy the sacrifice Viktor had gone through in being his coach. Yuuri must have felt that, must have thought how it would be like to have Viktor as a competitor. He probably had, especially when everyone else in the competition thought the same. Viktor was everyone's target; he was the mark that all other skaters wanted to hit, to beat. He was their goal. He was Yuuri's goal.

He was the man who surprised everyone, who kept on surpassing all expectations. He was the man that the crowd cheered on every time he landed a successful quad, the one who entranced the audience whenever he simply glided across the ice. He was the man who would look at the ice and imagine all the different choreographies possible to express one's self and hypnotize everyone else.

And Yuuri must have seen the last man. He must have seen how Viktor looked at other skaters, imagining how it would have been if he also competed. How Viktor looked when wondered what it felt like breaking his own record, whenever he would remember the times Yuuri did in this season.

He did miss the ice. He missed competing against others. He missed proving others wrong when they thought they found someone who did better than he did. He missed the cheers, the adrenaline rush, the relief after performing his programs without any problems. Viktor wanted to go back.

But he wanted to go back to that world with Yuuri. He wanted to train with Yuuri, to dance with him. He wanted to see him improve, he wanted to be entranced and surprised by what he could do. And he could not do that if Yuuri was going to be his competitor. Yuuri must have also realized that. He knew how Viktor's feelings for him would hold the Russian back from being the best everyone expected him to be. And they both knew if Viktor stayed as his coach, longing would turn into resentment, and resentment would lead to something far worse.

It was clear why Yuuri would rather retire than watch Viktor long for the ice and the cheers. He wanted to see Viktor at his best, and being his coach pulled him away from it.

Viktor realized it was his own dilemma to face. It was either Yuuri or his love for the ice. He wanted both, but he couldn't, could he? He wanted to see Yuuri in his beauty on the ice, but he also wanted to be on the ice.

Was his choices limited to being with Yuuri or being his competitor?

Viktor frowned, fist clenched and took deep breaths. It was late, and it was not going to do them good one of them did not get enough sleep tomorrow, or showed up hangover. This was not the time to be thinking of himself. Yuuri needed him until the end, and Viktor was going to be there for him, no matter what.

He climbed back to bed, forcing himself to focus on the competition tomorrow. Hopefully things would turn out better, for both him and Yuuri.

* * *

 ** _N/A:_** _Gonna update this whenever I can. Or if I do remember. Rate and Review? Love you._


	2. Toy, Fright & Black

**_A/N:_** _I just realized the first chapter's author's note started with N/A. I apologize for that, along with updates that take forever._

 _These one-shots are longer than the previous ones, and I opted to upload them before I forget about it again. [Has more to ramble in the A/N in the end]_

 **Words:** _Toy, Fright (NSFW) & Black_

* * *

 **Toy**

* * *

Jealousy was not a common emotion that Viktor felt every day. He was quite a content person when it came to personal possessions; then again, he was not one to worry about his daily expenditures. Rather, he had a bad habit of spending more than what he needed whenever he felt like it, but as long as his credit card was far from getting denied, he was keen on buying up to his heart's content.

Achievements, though, were more complex topics. He did not like to hold on to titles nor fame; those two things were good, great even. But too much of it was like eating sweets; if you had the common preference in flavour, too many deserts had the tendency to irk your throat. Or if you had a sweet tooth, the sugar would bite you in the ass, one way or another, like one could get diabetes, or maybe just fatter (not quite a good comparison, then again, Viktor was never an expert with verbally describing and comparing things). Too much fame and glory could wear one out, or bite you in the ass for indulging in it more than you should (for example, JJ).

On the other hand, achievements such as breaking a record were nice, and were one of the few things Viktor desired to have over others. But he was also careful to not make it into something that would eat him up inside out; he was old enough to know that. He had seen enough downfalls and experienced more than enough regrets to know that being too ambitious in one's career was not good path to follow.

So being jealous was not really something Viktor found himself doing in the recent days. He had proven himself that he had the capability of being a coach, had trained Yuuri and got him from the depths of despair to winning silver in the Grand Prix Final, with barely any difference in the score with Yuri Plisetsky. And he fell in love, and was loved back. That was probably the greatest thing that had ever happened to him ever since winning gold for five times in a row. They even lived together, which was also a big of a deal. So, Viktor was pretty content, yes, he was. He was convinced he was one of the luckiest men in the world, that it was going to be hard to beat him in his fortunes.

And that was why he had no idea why in the world was he getting jealous over a _stuffed animal_. A soft, fluffy, and inanimate object that was considered as cute by almost everyone in the damn planet. But there he was, frowning at the medium-sized blue and white stuffed _bunny_ like it was the one who had committed the original sin and cursed the rest of humanity for thousands of generations.

It arrived in his life just last month, when Yuuri went back to Hasetsu, and suddenly, his Instagram was filled with the damn stuffed rabbit. At first it was cute; the bunny looked incredibly adorable for Viktor. But as time went by, Yuuri became very attentive at taking care of the _stuffed_ (with emphasis on "stuffed" because the motherfucker was not even _alive_ ) animal. He made sure it did not get wet nor dirty, and he always held it properly; meaning, the bunny never had a moment that it was toppled on its head or was hanging upside down. Viktor had to convince himself that Yuuri was a twenty-four-year-old man for the past few days, not a seven-year-old who had tea parties with his toys.

The Russian managed to stop himself from complaining at first, because it would have been reasonable if he was jealous of Yuuri's friends (who were living, breathing organisms) when they spent too much time with him for his liking. But to be jealous of a freaking _stuffed toy,_ even Viktor thought of it as ridiculous.

But the damn bunny had to be placed on his side of the bed.

 _Viktor's_ side of the bed, just to clarify.

It was tucked neatly under the sheets, its long, white ears folded while its round, blue eyes mocked him like it had won some contest Viktor and the bunny entered for Yuuri's attention. It mocked him as it sat there like it owned that fucking side of the bed, that it belonged to nowhere else, except beside Yuuri when he slept.

And Viktor had enough. He walked over and grabbed the cursed toy by the ears, showing his dominance over its stupid, velvet white fur and derisive, unrealistic, circular blue eyes. Viktor imagined its expressionless face frowning as he strode out of their quarters and into the living room where Yuuri was watching the news, lying down on the couch and holding his phone.

Viktor walked in front of the television and placed the bunny on the coffee table as he stood across it from his lover. When he was sure that Yuuri's attention was on him and confusion had graced on his face when he looked at his cute little bunny, Viktor crossed his arms.

"You have to choose."

Yuuri only blinked, becoming even more confused as he looked at the toy, then at Viktor, "Huh?"

Viktor frowned, as if Yuuri was playing dumb to a question that could potentially risk a life, "It's either the bunny or me." He did not say anything else when Yuuri exclaimed with a surprised and baffled "eh?!", and waited until the other's expression morphed into something else. He watched as the realization slowly sank in his boyfriend's brain and Yuuri sat up, his eyes not leaving Viktor as he moved.

"…Are you jealous of Shori-kun?"

… Viktor shared the same name meaning with a freaking _stuffed bunny_? "Shori was on _my_ side of the bed. Now, it's either he goes, or I go. We both can't occupy the same space."

"Shori-kun is a stuffed animal, Viktor. I don't see why this is such a big deal."

"Just like I said, Shori…" Viktor took a deep breath, "…was stealing my place, both in _our_ bed and for your attention."

Yuuri pursed his lips and looked down. Viktor was sure several minutes passed by before Yuuri stood up, "Fine, I'll choose."

And Viktor was suddenly tense, because there was a _possibility_ that Yuuri might choose the damn stuffed bunny over him, which was ridiculous. Yuuri was not someone who _did_ ridiculous. It was usually Viktor with the unreasonable choices, while Yuuri was the more rational one in the relationship. But there was silence for a few more minutes as Yuuri looked at the stuffed bunny, humming. Viktor frowned even more, more than he already was, and waited.

His heart was suddenly pulled down to his guts when the younger actually reached for Shori and even hugged the fluffy, foam-filled, inanimate snag of fur tightly. Blue eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Yuuri walk with the bunny pressed against his chest, the same chest that Viktor _should_ be pressed against right now. It was Viktor who should be held by those arms at the same, if not even more, intensity.

He was being replaced by a stuffed animal?

Suddenly, before he could even huff, pout and throw a tantrum, Yuuri had walked around the coffee table, loosened his hold on Shori then dropped the bunny on the glass. Smaller, nimbler hands rested on Viktor's crossed arms as Yuuri stood on his toes to place a soft kiss on the taller man's lips.

That was all Viktor needed as an answer. He moved his arms to circle around Yuuri's waist as he leaned down to lessen the inconvenience their height difference bestowed whenever they kissed. And he pulled the younger closer, their chests pressed tightly together that Viktor could feel Yuuri's heart beating and he was sure the other felt his own. Yuuri's hands had ascended to his shoulder and nape, fingers taking hold of the silver strands as their mouths continued to move on each other. By the time they parted, they were both catching up on their breathing, a light pink flush on their cheeks.

It was Yuuri who spoke up first, "You seriously got jealous of a stuffed animal?"

"It was on _my_ side of the bed."

"I'll place Shori-kun in the middle then."

"He's not going to stay in between us. What if we cuddle?"

"Then you cuddle him too."

"He's not going to stay in the bed then."

"Fine."

Viktor blinked at Yuuri's answer, his blue eyes a little wide in confusion, "Really?"

"I bought Shori-kun because he reminded me of you. You know, white fur and blue eyes." Yuuri shrugged, his hands resting on Viktor's chest since the taller one had not let go of him, "Since I already have the real deal holding me right now, I don't really mind if I don't get to hold him at night."

"I figured. Well, that's good then."

They shared one more kiss, in which Viktor pulled back from.

"…But why a bunny?"

* * *

 **Fright**

* * *

Yuuri should have known this would happen the moment Viktor approached him with a couple of movies in hand.

Of course, it was not like Viktor's demeanor was something one could just predict. But the Russian was, by far, expressive in both words and actions, so to at least guess what his reaction to something would be was not that hard. The movies were all horror movies, and Viktor was someone who had the energy of a thousand suns at certain days, so Yuuri initially assumed it was not a good idea.

But Viktor was actually calm as he offered that night's schedule, and it was enough to convince Yuuri that, maybe, Viktor actually liked watching that genre of movies. The selection was inviting as well; Yuuri had seen most of the films and enjoyed them, and Viktor had looked through online reviews. Yuuri did agree and looked forward to it.

Well, he realized that sometimes, it was better to trust one's gut feeling.

There he was, in the living room of their apartment with the lights off (as demanded by Viktor) and the volume of the television on the fullest level, sitting on Viktor's lap and being held with strong arms as the older used his shoulder as a shield of protection whenever the he felt the ghost was going to appear on that _awfully_ , wide, wide TV screen in front of them.

"…What if we just turned on the lights?" Yuuri sighed when he felt the arms around his waist loosen when the scene turned calm, meaning, the heart-wrenching background music was gone.

Viktor let out a sound that was akin to a dog's whimper, "B-but Yuuri! How could we enjoy the movie if the light is on?"

"I don't think you're enjoying-,"

"Nonsense, Yuuri. This is how one should enjoy a horror— _oh my god she's coming, she's coming, she was there in the mirror, oh my god Yuuri_." The intense music was back, and, of course, Viktor had returned to peeking over Yuuri's shoulder, torn between closing his eyes and watching the scene unravel.

Yuuri could only sigh, and go back to watching. This was not as frightening as the other movies though, or at least, what was happening at the moment was not as terrifying as the other suggested movies. It had a nice plot, but the jump-scare was not as thrilling for the Japanese (who almost suggested movies from his own country, and thankfully did not). The thought of watching the rest of Viktor's movie list with his current reaction to the one they were watching, well, Yuuri could not actually imagine how it would go.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

The music turned even more chilling, and Viktor tightened his arms around Yuuri again. He could _feel_ how Viktor trembled behind him. At that moment, he was more concerned of the possibility of Viktor suffering from a heart attack than finishing the movie.

"…They won't—,"

"No spoiling, Yuuri!" Viktor was lucky to be able to finish his sentence before he gasped and hid his face again when he was sure the bloody-curling face of the ghost was going to appear on screen.

That sound was all it took to give Yuuri an idea.

He was still brooding on it though, and waiting for the right moment. He watched the scenes unfold on the large screen, and decided that it was a good thing that Viktor had pulled him on his lap, or it would have been diffucult trying to improvise if he were just beside him.

It was quite a wait but Yuuri remembered most of the movie enough to anticipate the next frightening scene was going to happen. The cue was sudden broken mirror and the creaking of the floors in the empty hallway. The sight of it was enough to make Viktor anxious again, murmuring something akin to _ohmygodshe'scomingshe'scomingohmygod_ , and making him close one eye while the other was just a bit over Yuuri's shoulder so he could simply duck his head to hide himself if the ghost did come on screen.

And when she did, screaming as blood ran over her decomposed face as a reflection in the mirror, Viktor tightened his hold even more, and Yuuri took this opportunity to press his derriere down on Viktor's front, earning a more-surprised and less-alarmed gasp from the other man.

"Y-Yuuri…what are you…"

Yuuri kept his movement, grinding down gently, and glanced sideways to see how his lover was faring. Viktor was trying to focus on the screen, but his white brows had creased inwardly, lips pressed hard against his shoulder. Opting to keep quiet of his small triumph, Yuuri pried the arms around his waist, pulled off his glasses, placed them on the coffee table, then switched his position so that he was straddling Viktor, with his back to the screen.

"W-what are- the m-movie…" Oh how Viktor was torn between the film and the man on his lap, especially when Yuuri had slipped his hands under his shirt and started to feel his body. It did not do any good since his heart rate had been over normal since the start of the movie, and the thrill of the scenes had made him even more sensitive than before. The hair in his arms all stood erect, and the goosebumps spread all over his body as he tried to focus on the movie, but there had to be _teeth_ on his neck and then a warm breath in his ear.

"Then just watch the movie." Yuuri heard Viktor swallow as he looked at the man's eyes still glued to the screen, but his cheeks were flaring enough that he could tell the flush in the dark. Firm hands were suddenly on his waist, and Yuuri took this opportunity to ground on him again, this time, his own gasp joining Viktor's as he started a rhythm. Judging from the music and the breathing coming from the screen, the tension was building up, and so Yuuri tried to match it.

He placed nips and bites on the skin of Viktor's neck, still fluidly moving his hips, and feeling the other grow under him. Through the eerie music, he could hear Viktor panting, softly whispering his name. There was discomfort burgeoning in his own lower regions, and his breathing already erratic. To think he would get turned on so easily like this… Yuuri almost questioned himself if this was some kind of kink, and that- well- no. This was not the time to be brooding over things like this.

His hands were busy running and feeling under Viktor's shirt, and the silver-haired man started to have trouble in focusing on the movie, his hips finally responding by lifting up with unintentional zealousness. His head had tilted to the side, exposing more of the tempting neck for Yuuri to mark.

The younger obliged, running his tongue along the length of the luscious skin before nibbling on a spot just below the ear. He could hear Viktor's unsteady breathing and felt the shivers through his teeth before one of the hands gripping his waist and buried itself in his dark locks.

Before Yuuri could anticipate the other's next move, his head was pulled away from his patchwork and fervent lips pressed against his own.

Yuuri gasped and felt a surge of excitement at the tongue that did not waste its time in exploring his mouth. The music from the television shifted into a shriller tone, and it only made their movements faster and more eager.

Viktor was rolling his hips up higher and Yuuri grounded on him harder and the chill that the movie had set into the atmosphere earlier was nonexistent, with the air thick and heated as they devoured each other in their kiss.

"Viktor…" Yuuri rasped when they ran out of breath, one arm around Viktor's neck while his other hand had cupped the apparent bulge of his lover, massaging and kneading him, making Viktor throw his head back as he thrusted up with a moan.

The conversation in the movie was just a hum in the background. Yuuri could only focus on Viktor's pleasing noises when he had shed the annoying shirt off of Viktor and dipped a hand inside the pants and brought his lover's ambrosial length out, thumbing the tip before he felt his own sweat pants being pulled down at the front, bringing his underwear along. Yuuri's moan was drowned out when they kissed once more, shivering as the cold air hit his engorgement in welcome.

Lips on lips, tongue on tongue, their hips moved again, their arousals brushing together and pleasure rushing through their bodies.

The intensity of the music matched their pace, the running footsteps creaking on the old wooden floor on the screen synchronized with the thuds they created as they moved on the couch. The panting of the poor, unfortunate characters were just a mere buzz compared to the gasps and moans of the two men as Viktor pumped their lengths in rhythm with their hips.

Viktor peeked in a little at the movie, catching a glimpse of the ghost appearing on the screen before he decided that focusing on Yuuri was better and infinitely more entertaining.

Yuuri caught him looking, despite the cloud in his head, and looked over his shoulder to see what was happening, trying to remember in the corners of his lust-filled mind what was going to happen next, and for a second thought of taking off his shirt because it had become uncomfortable, but the pleasure was too lovely to be stopped, and idea was discarded a second later.

Their hips gyrated against each other, the friction between them becoming a blinding thrill, making Viktor's hand move faster and the air between them hotter. The heat in their belly was slowly building up to be unbearable, and Yuuri braced himself, hands gripping on the back of the sofa, face buried in Viktor's shoulder. He moaned Viktor's name over and over as his thrusts became erratic and the _need_ to release was all he could think of. Though Viktor was no different, murmuring Russian curses and groaning into his ear, pressing his face into the black locks of hair. Their movements were no longer in rhythm, Viktor's hand pumping with even more vigor to bring them into completion.

One delightful squeeze, and Yuuri screamed, equaling the sharp shriek of the woman in the screen with his voice as he came.

Not a moment after, Viktor's arm tightened around him, pressing their chests together as he gave one last thrust and tug, joining Yuuri in his bliss when he also spilled himself, both of their seed staining Yuuri's shirt and his own chest. He groaned, burying his face into the younger man's neck.

When they were finally back to reality, catching their breaths, the sounds coming from the television were peaceful and low, indicating it the worse had ended. Viktor placed a soft kiss on his lover's lips before pulling him into a hug, with Yuuri sighing then laughing when another kiss landed on his cheek.

"…The movie's done. I didn't even get to see what happened." Viktor pouted, letting Yuuri move to sit beside him.

"Would you really watch it though?"

"Of course I would!"

Yuuri doubted that, but only chuckled and watched as the story wrapped up and the credits started to roll. His shirt was soiled, and Viktor's chest was not any cleaner, but he figured they would shower.

Viktor did not seem to have any plans to move at all, so he decided to head on his own, because the cloth had stuck to his skin due to sweat. But when he did, he was not able to even rise on his legs since Viktor had yanked him closer.

"W-what- Viktor?" Yuuri was too confused to even react when his shirt was suddenly pulled off over his head and another movie was playing on the television.

Viktor only smiled and kissed him, nipping on his bottom lip when he moved back, "This is the movie you said you screamed in the cinema right?"

* * *

 **Black**

* * *

As soon as the song played, echoing through the rink, Viktor closed his eyes. He moved across the ice, as if walking along with the crescendo of the piano. The story started playing in his head, with him spectating a poor, pitiful soul of a man cursed with a shattered heart.

 _Dead silence._

 _It was almost deafening as he strode across the empty halls of his manor, heart beating as he looked into every room, every turn, out of every window. Yet at every step he took, despair clung and hopelessness echoed. Questions ringing in his head, over and over and over enough to drive him insane._

 _Where could she be?_

 _Where could she have gone?_

 _Please, oh Lord, do not tell him… no, she could not have…_

The ethereal voice of the singer was greeted with a triple flip, the violins that followed were accompanied with a faster glide across the crystal floor, arms swaying, as if they were heavy with anguish yet were graceful and light enough like the music held them as he moved.

He glided across the rink, feet moving frantically as if searching something across the rink.

 _He ran. He ran through the manor, out in his garden, to every nook and corner of his land and back inside the halls filled with piercing stillness._

 _He whispered prayers as he felt his heart being clenched by a fist, forcing it down to his belly. He no longer knew where he was heading to, but he was still looking for her, hoping, desperate._

 _Lonely._

 _The word hit him like a huge rock as he stared into his bedroom, empty and hallow, yet the sight of it stabbed him in the chest with a dagger. A dagger that was still a beauty in itself; so intricately detailed and glistened whenever the light hit it. Fitting for a woman like her, for a ravishing criminal like her._

As the voice sang, the instruments striking their notes in the same perfectness as the quadruple Lutz delivered, Viktor thought of two things: the despair of the poor man, and how Eros enchanted him into his misery. His arms and feet moved on their own, eyes only opening to make sure he knew where he was on the ice, then closed to continue the story of the sad bloke.

 _Slowly, he walked into the room, looking for any remnants that may have been left. His feet were heavy as he moved, careful, as if every step would deliver a blow to his grieving heart. It was cold; so cold, it sent shivers throughout his body. When he finally reached the bed, the bed in which he shared with the most beautiful, the most enchanting of women he had encountered in his life, he pulled off the sheets and exhaled shakily at what he discovered._

 _He could still picture the ebony lace on her milky white skin, the way it slipped off her skin. He grasped it, brought it to his face and inhaled. Her scent, the intoxicating fragrance was still there. He could still smell her perfume, the aroma of her hair bringing back flashes of memories, of her touch, her lips, her dark, mesmerizing eyes._

 _Oh, but she was gone now. Those memories only deepened the wound in his heart._

 _She was never his to keep from the very start._

A flawless combination of jumps and spins, Viktor had twisted the fabric of his shirt by his chest in a fist as he landed, feeling the music surging through his veins as it intensified.

 _He had fallen to his knees, the dress still in his frantic hold. The heady memories of her filling his mind. He could still picture how she moved on the dance floor, how her eyes captured his, how she held him, and how her body felt under his hands._

And images Yuuri, his own Eros, appeared in Viktor's mind. How his hands moved across the dark, velvet cloth that shaped his body, fluid and tempting and _oh so_ enticing. How Viktor could not dare take his eyes off him as the audience were enchanted with his dance, the crystals embedded on the silken cloth only adding a little to his alluring performance.

He could still remember how every jump, flip and turn knocked the air out of Viktor's lungs. How each half-second of their eyes meeting released such ethereal feeling in his heart that lasted for hours. Oh, how Viktor wished to just jump into the ice and hold him, and keep him from the mesmerized eyes of the audience. To stop him in the middle of the performance because he had captivated too many people, had been desired by so many, but, alas, he cannot. He could only watch in awe at the dance Yuri dedicated to him, to Viktor alone, along with many others who also fell under his spell.

 _She was gone. He finally took it in as tears fell from his eyes. He was alone once again, fooled, played with. Yet even with the evil she had done, he could not stop from torturing himself with the images of her beauty, her ravaging soul that left him breathless yet so alive._

 _She had charmed hundreds before him, and he was only that one rare piece of jewelry she challenged herself to acquire. She had smiled the same smile, delivered the same kiss, burned the same touch on different men. And he was no exception._

The thought of sharing this Yuuri to the rest of the world. It made Viktor shiver in possessiveness.

 _He threw the cloth down on the floor, feeling the anguish, the anger, the misery swallow him whole. How could he let her do that to him? How could he fall for an enchantress, knowing every move she had done on him was refined by experience?_

A step sequence, followed by a quadruple Lutz. Viktor let out a loud exhale as he felt his lungs tighten, his heart pounding harder as the intense music played through.

Images of his Eros flooded his mind, every sway of his hips, every spin he delivered. Those bottomless brown eyes. Those luscious lips. Those tantalizing obsidian strands.

 _Oh God, why did you have to send that beautiful demon to him? Why did you let him offer his heart to her?_

Those pale, warm hands that left Viktor hypnotized as they roamed his body.

 _Could he have broken the spell before it destroyed him? Could he have done something to change his fate?_

The music had peaked, the sounds of the violins echoing louder, and Viktor had brought himself into a long spin before slowing into a stop, with his hand reaching up to the sky as if grasping, begging for an answer to the question of the poor, lonely man.

The music faded away, slowly and gently, reality coming back to him. He let his breathing even out first before opening his eyes, vision focused on the ceiling before moving when he realized he was no longer alone in the rink.

 _Ah…_

 _There was no way he could have stopped himself from getting torn into pieces like this._

The raven-haired man stared at him, eyes in admiration and wonder, as he stood beside the music player. Silence ruled the space around them, only the soft sounds of blades moving on ice as Viktor straightened up. Blue eyes observed the other, taking in the details he had seen for countless of times, yet at the moment, they had a very distinct effect on him.

Memory served a great purpose in reminiscing one's appearance. But to actually see the soft, dark strands a little messed up and warm, soft eyes in contrast to the almost porcelain-like skin, and to silently laugh at the coincidence that the jacket Yuuri wore was almost the same shade as the tight, sensuous outfit that could drive Viktor insane if he kept on thinking about it, oh he knew this was _much_ better.

And their eyes locked on each other, and Viktor felt the goosebumps rise on his skin as he finally had the answer. His tongue darted out, licking his nearly-dry lips, the same way he remembered the man in front of him doing as he started to bewitch the audience.

Viktor was trapped in the gaze, the silence being the thin thread he was holding on to.

 _You poor, poor man._

"Viktor?"

The next second, Viktor was falling.

 _The moment you saw her._

 _Heard her._

Even the way Viktor glided from the center of the rink to his precious was nothing less than graceful. But that did not matter. Nothing else mattered.

 _Touched her._

All that mattered was Yuuri's warm lips against his, his soft raven locks in between his fingers, and the way he gasped for breath as Viktor devoured him, needy for affection, desperate for confirmation, utterly anxious at the thought that all of this, all that Yuuri was to him, could be gone in a blink of an eye.

It was terrifying, oh so terrifying. But he could not stop himself at the thrill of it. The uncertainty of the future, the tragedy that was half-expected to come.

 _The second you succumbed to her very existence._

 _Eros had doomed you for eternity._

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _First of all: "Femme Fatale" by Thomas Bergerson (or Two Steps from Hell) is the song that inspired the last word prompt. Go listen to it and maybe the rest of Two Steps from Hell, Thomas Bergerson and Nick Phoenix songs because it is jus C._

 _Second, I am sorry if these seem a little stiff, I've written these in between making technical and laboratory reports. Plus, I proofread myself (which takes a LOT of time and still very inaccurate in correcting errors). Plus I am aware of the errors in the first set of prompts and I'll try to reupload a corrected one when I have the time. And I am also not sure if there are errors committed during the uploading from Word to FF because I don't really check it (oops)._

 _Third! Because I'm lazy and sort of biased, word generators don't really work well on me anymore. So if you have any words you would like me to write about, go put it in reviews. Also, I'm musing whether or not to go back to Tumblr (not really an important thought sorry)._

 _Rate (is this even the proper word) and review? Love you. And word suggestions, of course._


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